


many new beginnings

by GreenyLove



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adoption, Dadfic, Domestic Fluff, Kidfic, M/M, New Family, Parenthood, Slice of Life, Trans Male Character, Trans Tsukishima Kei
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25532197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenyLove/pseuds/GreenyLove
Summary: It’s been five weeks, the most exhausting five weeks of Kuroo’s life, but it’s led him here: to a safe, peaceful room with frogs on the curtains and dinosaurs on the walls, stars on the ceiling and his husband in a rocking chair, the dozing form of one small infant resting lengthwise on his chest.(Kuroo and Tsukishima adjust to parenthood.)
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 20
Kudos: 186





	many new beginnings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kurotetsukei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurotetsukei/gifts).



> this fic was written as part of a giveaway on [twitter](https://twitter.com/greenywrites)
> 
> kurotetsukei requested "krtsk + babies" which was honestly an incredible request because I love krtsk and I also have the hugest soft spot for kidfics 
> 
> enjoy!!

The deadbolt clunks heavily. Kuroo winces, eases the key out and nudges the door open with his foot. It’s not difficult to balance two full bags of groceries and shut the door behind him, but it is difficult to do both those things and not make any unnecessary noise. 

The first thing parenthood taught Kuroo is that opportunities like this are a blessing. His life is at the mercy of a newborn’s sleep schedule — when the twins finally sleep, it’s a scramble to wipe down surfaces, check in with the JVA, with the museum, sterilize bottles, do laundry. The need for laundry detergent is precisely what drove Kuroo out on a supply run to the nearby 24-hour supermarket. They underestimated the amount of washing they’d be doing with spitty, messy newborns in the house. 

Or rather, they only planned on having _one_ spitty, messy newborn. But life doesn’t always go as planned. 

Kuroo sets down the paper bags, glancing at the stove clock. 2:39 AM. The apartment is blue and quiet except for the faint whir of the white noise machine. Kuroo stores the refrigerated items and follows the calming hum to the nursery. 

Inside the room is lit just barely by the warm presence of a dinosaur egg nightlight. The yellow glow stretches up the wall, across the carpet, guarding the large crib against the deeper shadows in the corner. 

The nursery is the one room in the apartment that isn’t a disaster. Kei spent the last few days before The Call folding onesies, matching up pairs of very small socks, stocking the changing table with more kinds of diaper cream than one family probably needs. Not that Kuroo judges his husband’s coping mechanisms. Kuroo himself spent countless hours on his phone, hunting down any parenting blog with tips and suggestions on bringing newborns home. He must have read the same handful of personal stories on adoption websites dozens of times: nervous parents recounting what it was like to get The Call and show up at the hospital — but Kuroo couldn’t help it. 

What if something went wrong? What if the birth mother changed her mind? Could she do that? What if Kuroo bought the wrong kind of formula? What if the baby got sick? 

“Tetsu,” Kei whispers from the rocking chair. 

Kuroo calms. Inhales, exhales, comes back to himself. There’s no more time for overthinking. Since that morning, when they finally got an alert from the adoption agent saying that not only was the birth mother in labor, _ there was a second baby, _ missed on all the ultrasounds — life has been a whirlwind. A dizzying, delightful roller coaster of Kei grabbing the hospital bag while Kuroo calls on Bokuto to go buy a second car seat, which his best friend agreed to enthusiastically. 

(Bokuto takes his duties as godfather very seriously — so seriously that he arrived at the hospital with an exhausted Akaashi and a trunk stuffed to the brim with duplicates of every conceivable baby item at the specialty store. Many of which were completely unnecessary. They still have a pile of things to return, but it’s a minor inconvenience, compared to the proof that their children are so, so loved.) 

It’s been five weeks, the most exhausting five weeks of Kuroo’s life, but it’s led him here: to a safe, peaceful room with frogs on the curtains and dinosaurs on the walls, stars on the ceiling and his husband in a rocking chair, the dozing form of one small infant resting lengthwise on his chest. 

Kuroo wouldn’t trade this sight for anything. Kei is sleepy and perfect, his long fingers caressing up and down their child’s back. He watches Kuroo with those golden eyes, puffy with exhaustion but still the prettiest, prettiest eyes in the world. 

“Sorry,” Kuroo mouths, sheepish. Kei smiles tiredly, shifting his shoulders against the back cushion, slow so as not to wake Matsu. 

Their son is fussy, clingy. Scared of the dark and shy, reluctant to be put down even for the few seconds it takes to change his diaper, let alone sleep. His sister, Hamako, is restless in a different way, already wide-eyed and squirmy and eager to move. Their lives have barely begun, but Kuroo can already imagine how they might grow up. 

Matsu, inquisitive and gentle, hiding behind Kuroo’s legs. Reading a book with Kei, chewing thoughtfully on the edge of his favorite blanket. 

Hamako, adventurous and kind, chasing after bugs, blowing bubbles and clapping at them gleefully. She’ll follow Kei everywhere, push her brother’s buttons. Scrape her knees and get right back up again. 

It fills Kuroo’s heart with joy and fear. Joy, because he gets to have this wonderful family, gets to share this with Kei, and fear, because time might pass too quickly. He and Kei both get lost in their own minds, sometimes. Especially now, when they are sleep-deprived. 

Kuroo wants to make sure they remember this, the beginning. 

“I can take him,” he says, barely above a whisper. He kneels down beside the rocker so he’s level with Kei’s chest, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on the back of his hand where it rests across Matsu. “You should take a bath, eat something.” 

Kei grunts in agreement. The handoff is a practiced thing, easing Matsu back into Kuroo’s large, careful hands. He squirms but settles easily against Kuroo’s shoulder, face scrunched up, still that splotchy newborn pink. He smells like soap and talcum powder. Kuroo smoothes his own hand down his back, marveling at how small his son is, how he fits so neatly into his broad palm. 

“You’re okay, little one. Papa’s got you,” he soothes, rising to his feet and swaying gently in a slow dance set to the tune of his heartbeat and his son’s sleepy breaths. 

Kei stays sitting, folds a leg up and rests his cheek on a bony knee. “What if I want to be Papa?” 

“The responsible parent should be Father,” Kuroo teases softly. “The  _ fun _ parent gets to be Papa.” 

Kei rolls his eyes but doesn’t stop smiling. His glasses are askew, his skin oily, hair a wavy mess. Bone tired but so soft and so content. Kuroo wants to scoop all of them up and hold them forever, but that would undo all of Kei’s bedtime magic. Kuroo is a sap but he’s not a fool. 

Hamako stirs in the crib, hiccups and whines. 

Kuroo freezes. Kei goes wide-eyed. 

Swiftly but oh-so carefully, Kuroo lowers Matsu into the crib next to his sister. “There you go, Hama-chan, see? Matsu is right here.” 

Hamako turns her face towards her brother, kicks a little in her sleeper. Matsu flails his fists. But to their fathers’ relief, the twins settle, soothed by the presence of the other. 

Kuroo’s heart squeezes. He can’t resist stroking a hand through their downy black hair. 

The shadows on the wall move as Kei stretches and joins him. He reaches out and spins their mobile into motion — a gift from Kyoutani and Yahaba. Frogs and lily pads, wooden and hand painted, spinning whimsical and silent above the sleeping babes. 

“Go start your bath, darling,” Kuroo murmurs into Kei’s hair, pressing another kiss behind his ear. “I’ll start food.” 

Kei shoots him a warm smile that melts into something  _ warmer _ , heated enough to send a familiar tingle zipping up Kuroo’s legs. He slides into Kuroo’s arms and rubs a hand across his flat stomach, teasing under his shirt as he whispers against Kuroo’s cheek. “I’ll start the bath...but you better join me.” 

Kuroo grabs that wandering hand before it can go much farther — at least while they are standing less than a foot away from their children. He leads Kei out of the door and spins around to kiss him after the door is safely shut, the nursery monitor in the kitchen alerting them to any changes. 

“I’m still the fun parent,” Kuroo warns, smirk playful. 

Kei simply raises an eyebrow and shrugs. “We’ll see,” he says over his shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom. The lights flick on, and moments later, his shirt comes flying out to land in the hallway. 

Followed by his sweatpants. 

Followed by a  _ particular _ pair of underwear that has Kuroo feeling hot under the collar and incredibly overdressed.

“Christ, I’m in love,” he sighs fondly. He snags the nursery monitor off of the counter. They might be a while. 

Kuroo is going to savor this, after all. All of this, this wonderful beginning, and all the many new beginnings to come after.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! comments and kudos are loved and appreciated. this author responds to comments. <3 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/greenywrites)   
> 


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